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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22378645">Redamancy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadybugsFanfics/pseuds/LadybugsFanfics'>LadybugsFanfics</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Real Person Fiction</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cancer, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Sickness, this hurt my heart to write and i truly hope it hurts your hearts to read</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 15:22:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,368</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22378645</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadybugsFanfics/pseuds/LadybugsFanfics</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Requested by anonymous: "<em>Reader and Tom are dating for years and he's planning on proposing, but on the day he does, Reader says no and break up with him. The poor guy is devasted, and he keeps thinking during months what he did wrong, until... [request cut due to spoilers] </em></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tom Hiddleston/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Redamancy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>redamancy (n.) - the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tom opens the black box one more time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the inside lies a ring. Its silver metal works its way into a perfect circle, though a little before the diamond takes its place, the circle cuts into two lines that snake around each other. One of the snakes is lined with diamonds, but the real eye catcher is the round diamond perched on top. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he’d picked it out, he’d told the goldsmith he didn’t have a budget (now he didn’t spend </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> much on it, but he didn’t hold back either). The diamond is a flawless, one carat that he hopes will tell you how much he loves you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s even planned the night down to the second. And it’s all about to start, as soon as you leave out the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tom closes the box again, sighs happily, and holds onto the ache in his lungs. The butterflies have been fluttering around his gut for two weeks, finally it’s settled for another (albeit not better) feeling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He slips the box into the inner pocket of his jacket and walks out of your shared bedroom. And in the hallway, twirling in front of the mirror, stands you. You’re dressed in a beautiful black dress that hugs your torso and flows into a deep length at your legs―the only reason it doesn’t reach the floor is the pair of high heels you’re wearing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look…” The word gets lost in his throat as you turn around, the dazzling smile on your lips now directed at him. “... absolutely stunning.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, handsome.” You walk the few steps needed to get close to him. “You look absolutely dazzling, yourself.” And Tom isn’t sure he can speak after you press your lips to his. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe he should just skip the whole plan and propose to you now, only so that he can take off that dress and show you how </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> you make him feel, show you how much he loves you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he clears his mind and smiles. “Shall we go, m’lady?” he asks and holds out his arm for you to take. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We shall, m’lord.” You giggle up at him as you take his arm, and you walk like that to the limousine Tom had ordered for the evening. Something which is a surprise to you and have you look up at him with wide eyes and the biggest smile Tom has ever seen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had listened that time you told him you wanted to take one. Why not make the most of it when he’s going to propose anyway?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The driver holds the door open for the two of you. You both thank him as you get in, and a few short moments later, the car is driving and you’re both sitting with a champagne glass each in your hands. You’re leaning on Tom, chin on his shoulder and looking up at him with the most adorable smile he’s ever seen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can’t help himself; he presses a kiss to your lips, though when you pull back a little, he doesn’t let you go and captures your lips with his again. Every moment with you, is a moment his world is on fire, and by each moment, his world gets better and better. Tom is never letting you go. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a half hour drive, the limousine pulls to a stop. The driver is quickly there to open the door and Tom helps you out after he’s gotten out himself. A few stares from the pavement comes your way, but when you don’t seem to notice, Tom lets himself ignore them as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(It is the first time you’re really out, despite having been together for exactly three years―the anniversary part was a great excuse to get you dazzled up and out for his plan―but Tom’s always been secretive and you’ve never minded the privacy shared within your home. So going out into the public eye hasn’t been done a lot, but if you don’t mind now that he’s finally going to propose, he doesn’t either.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tom,” you say, lightly hitting him in the chest, as you make your way inside the restaurant. “This is a really expensive restaurant. I know you’re rich and all but… Isn’t it too much?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For you, darling, nothing is ever too much.” It sounds as cheesy as it did in his head, but by the smile on your face, he doesn’t care. He presses another kiss to your lips before you stop by the hostess’s stand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A woman behind it greets you with a big smile, and asks if you’ve reserved or not. Tom smiles at her and says his last name, garnering a bigger smile and a bright ‘follow me’. She brings with her two menus and leads the two of you to the back of the restaurant. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Compared to the front, it’s far more romantic. With candles lit, the light slightly dimmed and a window seating staring out onto the Thames. The night has fallen over London, and the table you get basks in the little moonlight that streams in through the window. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tom’s heart squeezes when you try to suppress a slight squeal at the sight. He helps you with your chair as you’re about to sit down, and moves for a kiss before he sits down himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(He’s catching himself doing that a lot more than he usually does, but seeing as he enjoys it and it seems you do too, he makes a mental note not to stop.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re only doing dinner and dessert, right? Not an appetizer or more shit that’ll make me feel as if my anniversary present isn’t enough?” Your tone is playful and light, but Tom can hear the slight insecurity behind it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shakes his head. “Only dinner and dessert,” he replies. “Only, you can’t choose the dessert. I’ve already chosen one and I can’t have you suddenly changing your mind even though I suppose you would choose it anyway.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now I can’t wait for dessert,” you say, and laugh. “But I bet you’re also choosing the wine, and the dinner and maybe even how I eat?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You’re smiling, but Tom feels slightly self-conscious about it. He had said it was a surprise, but admittedly, he had probably also been a bit bossy whilst getting you to go along with everything. “You can choose whatever you like. I recommend a wine that goes with your food, though, love.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You do? How surprising.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tom nods and smiles at the glint in your eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God, you’re beautiful</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that’s how the rest of dinner goes. Tom focuses on all the little aspects of you. The way you laugh; the slight tug at your lips whenever you think you’re being clever; the sparkle in your eyes that draws him in and doesn’t let go; the mesmerizing smile that rips out his heart and swallows it, keeping it to yourself forever. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There isn’t anything about you that makes Tom question your worth, but everything has him second guessing your choice of him. He can’t fathom what he ever did to deserve you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something he will show when the dessert comes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It comes whilst you’re laughing at something he said. A simple brownie with raspberries and strawberries on top, sprinkled with powdered sugar. The dish itself looks simple, as if today is nothing more than an ordinary day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(And he didn’t do the thing about hiding the ring in the dish. He didn’t dare). </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>However, the brownie means something. To both of you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On your very first date, you’d ordered a simple brownie with berries on top and sprinkled with powdered sugar. Just before the dessert comes―and Tom had ordered something else―you’d said that when it came to sweets, you sucked at sharing and that he should never expect to get any if you got your hands on something good. But when it came, and he didn’t mind letting you taste his, you let him taste yours and, as a slip of the tongue, said that that was the first time you’d ever shared food on a date. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tom had never felt as special as he did that day. The date had ended with a kiss, a sweet kiss that to this day lingered on his lips. But the brownie symbolized the very start of your relationship, and he’d always joked that if he ever were to propose, he’d make a reference back to when you first started dating. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now, he can see it dawns on you that that’s what today is. Your face goes through a series of emotions; starting from happy at the sight, to confusion, to shock, to a stare at Tom that takes his breath away, and then, your face blanks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>However, Tom has already stood up. He’s making his way down on one knee and he’s pulled the black box out of where it lay in his pocket. He holds it securely between his hands and looks up at you with the most loving expression he knows. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A hand covers your mouth. A tear runs down your face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Y/N,” he starts. The nerves can be heard in his voice, already on your name it shakes. “On this day, three years ago, we went out on our first date. I could never have wished for a more perfect night than that night, and yet you give me a more perfect night every night. Every moment I’m with you is the best of my life, and I want nothing more than to share the rest of my life with you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He takes a deep breath. His eyes find yours, tears are streaming down your face. In the moment, he isn’t sure whether they’re happy tears or not. But he gathers the rest of his courage, and as the words leave his mouth he opens the black box. “Y/N Y/L/N, will you be my wife? Will you marry me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tom gazes expectantly up at you. He’s been planning this for so long, he’s been waiting to hear a yes for so long. How could you say anything less when, despite the occasional fights, you seem to love him more and more each day?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only, you’re not saying anything. And if Tom’s not wrong, there’s a slight look of horror on your face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tom’s heart shatters into a million pieces as you shake your head. “No,” you whisper, the word barely audible. “No, Tom, I can’t… I can’t.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” he asks, and he holds the ring with one hand only, taking your hand in his. You’re shaking, and the tears he couldn’t decipher before he can now see are sad tears. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t.” You shake your head. “I have to go.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Tom can say anything, you’ve stood up from your seat and are rushing out of the restaurant. Tom falls to his butt on the floor, his heart lost somewhere on the ground and his lungs constricting in on him. He’s not sure he can breathe, he’s not sure he has any ounce of energy left in him to get up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The only thought swirling around in his mind is the one that will be his downfall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What did I do wrong?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>---</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took two days before the text came. A text that twisted his heart, had his already bloodshot eyes fill with more tears, and his heart crush into a million tiny pieces he was certain he couldn’t ever glue back together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least not without you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sorry, Tom, but I don’t think we should see each other anymore.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The text haunts him every time he looks at it, and he keeps looking at it, hoping it’s a nightmare. But when your best friend comes a few days later with their partner and clears out your belongings, it hits him how real it is. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tries not to let it show. He doesn’t want them to know how much he’s hurting. But he isn’t sure how well it comes off, not with how his clutching Bobby to his chest and the dog keeps licking away his tears. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tom knows he’s a mess, and he lets it show when the two friends of yours leave with your things. He lets the tears stream down his cheeks, lets the sobs loose, and clutches Bobby tighter to his chest―but not so tight it hurts the dog. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that’s how he is for the next few months. He keeps up appearances wherever he’s needed, and he continues to do his job, keeping up the pretence that nothing’s bothering him. But he crashes on his couch whenever he gets home, he cries himself to sleep night after night after night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>During it all, he racks his brain as to why you would leave him. It doesn’t add up, it doesn’t make sense, he can’t seem to figure out the reason. Maybe if you had given him one, it would have been easier to get through it…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>However, Tom doesn’t give up. He sends you countless texts, doesn’t care that you leave them all on read. He calls, his heart breaking every time you don’t pick up. Yet, he isn’t sure if he has a heart left breaking after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s late at night when his phone rings. The snow has laid down on the streets, and the moonlight shines through the window off Tom’s apartment. He reaches for the phone, unsure whether or not he wants to answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Until he sees the caller ID. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Y/BFF/N Y/BBF/L/N</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His thumb hovers over the green phone icon. He contemplates not answering, contemplates showing them the same treatment as he has gotten from you over the last few months. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he decides against it. What if something has happened to you?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tom’s thumb presses the button and he puts the phone to his ear. “Tom Hiddleston,” he says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hi, this is Y/BFF/N. You probably don’t really want to talk to me, but I need you to listen.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Their voice sounds shaky, and Tom’s mind spirals into the worst possible probabilities. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But as they said, Tom doesn’t really want to talk to them. Listen, he will. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can hear their breath on the other side, and when he doesn’t hang up, it sounds like a relieved sigh. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I didn’t know at first why you and Y/N broke up. I thought it was something different than what it was, but she told me today. I thought you broke up with her by how devastated she was.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Y/BFF/N takes a deep breath. Tom braces himself for what comes next. He’s almost certain the words will be that he missed his shot; she got hit by a bus, or fell off a bridge. Anything that makes his lungs constrict in on him and shatter the few remnants of his heart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>She’s got cancer. She’s being treated and things are looking bright, but there’s no saying for sure. She found out a little before your anniversary and didn’t want to tell you just yet because that would make it real. She said no because she thinks you deserve better than someone who might die before the wedding even happens. I don’t think she thought it through, but they say her survival chances are good. I thought you should know.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tom takes a little time to catch his breath. He wants to yell, he wants to cry, but most of all, he wants to hold you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where can I find her?” he asks, voice hoarser than he expected. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>She’s at her parent’s. She’s going through it with us, but I know she misses you, and I hope you can be there with her.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will. Thank you for letting me know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Of course.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With no hesitation, he hangs up the phone. Tom jumps off the couch, packs a little bag with some clothes and some other necessities, and food for Bobby. In less than ten minutes, he’s out of the apartment with Bobby in tow and rushing to his car. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes half an hour to drive to your parents, but Tom makes it in twenty minutes by going over the speed limit. He can’t wait to see you, to kiss you, to tell you that he loves you, and to chide you for keeping it hidden from him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He parks in the driveway and walks out of the car with Bobby. He leaves the bag there, too busy wanting to find you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he rings the doorbell, he can feel his heart beating a mile a minute. His head pounds and his hands feel clammy. Tom doesn’t understand why he’s so nervous. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable―or maybe he hasn’t after all? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door opens, and there you stand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You look tired. Dark rings under your eyes, red rims around them and only half a smile to spare him. Bobby jumps up at you as he sees you and you crouch down to pet the dog. You kiss the top of his head and let him lick you, his little tail wagging frantically. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me take him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tom didn’t notice your mother coming up behind you, but she pries Bobby’s leash from his hand and takes the dog with her inside. He follows happily after, now showering your mom with love, though less than what he showed you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But with his hands free, Tom pulls you to him. He presses you tightly against him in a hug, and breathes in the smell of you. He’d missed it. How you always smell fresh, always smelled as if you just showered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can feel his shirt getting wet, and pulls you a little away from him. You’re smiling, but the tears keep falling down your face and Tom does his best to wipe them away. The touch has his skin burn, has a tear fall down his own cheek because it makes him realize how much he missed you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then he can’t keep himself from it. He captures your lips in his. You sink together, pressing as tightly as you can. Your hands move instantly to wrap around his neck and his circle around your waist to press you close. It feels like he’s on fire. Like you’re a magnet and he can’t stop the pull he feels towards you, he can only go with it. His heart keeps beating in his chest, pounding in his head, drumming in his veins. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All the feelings that he’s missed during the months you were apart, comes rushing back at once, lighting him with adrenaline, with passion, with relief. The pleasure of finally kissing you again has his body loosen up, rest from the tense position it’s been stuck in since you left. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wants to kiss you forever, never let go. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But you have to step away to breathe, and when you break apart, he presses a kiss to your forehead and drags you back into his embrace. Your head rests on his chest and his fingers run through the soft strands of your hair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neither of you say anything. Neither of you move from where you stand. Neither of you care when the snow starts falling, settling in your hair and on your exposed skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neither of you care about anything but staying in each others embrace. Everything else comes second, first priority is to show each other the affection you’ve both been missing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tom waits until you’re inside and alone in your bedroom to say anything. You’ve latched onto his hand, grip tight and knuckles white. He doesn’t mind, only basks in the closeness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You sit down on your bed, dragging him to you and clutching his arm tighter to your chest. The smile on your face is a mixture of guilt and relief. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” The words are hoarse, barely above a whisper. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tom smiles. He wipes away the tear that travels down your cheek with his thumb. You lean into his touch and he wraps his arms around you, letting your head fall to his shoulder. “It’s okay.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He says the words over and over again as he rubs circles on your back. When you pull out of the embrace, he kisses your forehead. “What made you hide it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… I wasn’t sure how to tell you. And then everything happened all at once. I didn’t want to ruin your career and I didn’t want to say yes when there is a possibility that I might not be here for it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never say that.” He presses a kiss to your lips. “You cannot ruin anything as long as you’re in my life. We will get through this together, I promise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You smile. “If we do, can I say yes?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tom nods, a smile growing on his face. He captures your lips in another kiss, and when you part, rests his forehead against yours. “I will never take back my question, but I did leave the ring at home so your finger can’t be jeweled just yet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was not one of my worries,” you say and let out a quiet laugh. The happiness on your face makes your tired features look a little alive again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Healing takes time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Healing takes strength.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Healing takes… a lot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tom’s exhausted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even as he’s with you, helping you work through it and doing his best to be there, he’s also working. His closest know, help, but it pains him not to be there for you everyday. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It helps that you get better. Little by little you quicken, you smile more, you find hope. And you start to plan a wedding. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which is what Tom finds you doing when he comes home after a month away―it pained him. You’re lying on the couch in the living room, magazine in your lap and a pen between your teeth. One hand rests at the magazine’s spine, whilst the other switches the page. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You don’t notice him at first, only when he coughs to gain your attention do you spare a glance his way. And as you see him, a light shines on your face and you jump from the couch. In his embrace, you hide your head in the crook of his neck and your arms snake around him tighter than ever before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have been gone way too long,” you whisper. “I’ve missed you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tom places a kiss where your shoulder peeks up from your top. “I’ve missed you too, love. How are you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You pull back from him and press a soft kiss to his lips. “I’m great. The doctor says there is a good chance for a full recovery. I might actually beat this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Darling, that’s fantastic.” Tom cups your cheek. “But I have never doubted it. You are the strongest person I know, and I couldn’t bear it if you weren’t here with me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, of course not. You can’t doubt it because you wouldn’t be able to live without me, baby.” You scrunch your nose up at him. “You’d be totally lost without me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tom laughs. He captures your lips in another kiss. A hungrier and more demanding one, but he doesn’t push it. He relishes in the smile that forms within the kiss, in the fluttery feeling deep in his gut, and in the way his heart squeezes being close to you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now, you’ve started wedding planning?” he asks as he breaks the kiss. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You nod excitedly and turn to get back to your magazine. “Okay, so I’ve been doing some thinking, and I don’t want anything really big. Especially with everything going on, but I thought we’d invest something in it, anyways.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There are words hanging from your lips, unspoken. The glee in your eyes carefully hide away the fear that lurks inside, but Tom knows you, has known you for so long, that you can’t hide it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he also knows not to comment. So he nods, and he smiles and he listens to everything you have to say, wanting this to be the wedding of your dreams. He doesn’t care if it becomes expensive or cheap, or if it doesn’t live up to a fantasy he once had. He couldn’t care even if he so wanted to, because all that matters to him, is that he gets to marry you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a month before the wedding when you get the all clear; you’re cancer free. The joy radiates off of you, and Tom couldn’t be happier. It’s the best wedding present he could wish for. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In that month, time flies by faster than he can comprehend. Everything needs to be done before the wedding, but most of all, you celebrate life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And when the wedding comes, he doesn’t really focus on anything but the fact that he's married to you. He got the love of his life, he got to marry you, and you’re cancer free. There’s nothing to worry about. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, there’s the slight thing about having the kids talk (he wants at least one), especially after you’d come home after being at the doctors and gotten the news that you couldn’t have children anymore. You’d broken down in his arms, cried your heart out, and he’d tried to comfort you but he knew how much it meant. And he’d kept from bringing it up again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Until a month after the wedding, and your honeymoon was over. He tries to step carefully around the subject, unsure how you’ll react to his words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Darling,” he asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You look up at him, a small smile placed on your lips. “What’s up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have been thinking lately.” He takes a deep breath. “About kids.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The smile on your face grows bigger. “Thank God,” you say, “because I have, too. I’ve been looking into some adoption agencies, but I didn’t want to rush things and I wanted a clear view on some before I proposed the idea to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tom smile grows wide and he moves closer to you, and captures your lips in a kiss. “So, it’s settled. We’re going to try and adopt?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And you nod and smile so big Tom’s heart skips a beat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>God, he’s the luckiest man in the world. </span>
</p>
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